a firefly set the world on fire
by Veredith
Summary: Fate is a fickle thing; ever-changing yet constant. She is out of place here, somehow, but she feels that some things simply are meant to be. Some things change, and some things do not, and she is another faceless character in another nameless play. (SI!Mikoto)
1. a glimpse of flickering lights

**AN: SO I'M BACK WITH A THING THAT I POSTED INSTEAD OF UPLOADING 'ITB'. Honestly, I have no idea where I'm going with that story. I also have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this one but hey, it'll only be 5 chapters at most. Probably.**

 **Man, I need to plan things better.**

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Uchiha Mikoto is raven-feathered hair, glass eyes and paper skin. She is fire-wind and candle-warmth; poison-laced words and soft embraces. Uchiha Mikoto is fire and hearth and home; she is mother and wife and woman and killer.

Uchiha Mikoto is a lie.

(She is a fabrication, yet not – a character woven and worn by a girl not meant to be, that shouldn't have been. Uchiha Mikoto is a character the girl played, yet something she soon became.

She is Mikoto; Mikoto is her. And yet, she isn't – not really, never was.)

* * *

She is born on a hot summer's day, wailing and screaming and all-too-aware of the world around her but never remembering enough.

"Troublesome child." The woman holding her admonishes as she carefully cleans the newborn, the infant quieting down as she does so. "Mikoto." she whispers, glancing at her birth-giver's still form; taking in the hollow sorrow overtaking the woman's husband; gazing into eyes all-too-aware (but unable to remember, would never remember - )

"Mikoto," she repeats, fixing a solemn gaze upon the bundle in her arms, "That is your name – what your mother has named you. And we shall see to it that you live up to your namesake."

Uchiha Mikoto is born on a hot summer's day to a mother that loved her but was unable to meet her and a father that adored yet resented her.

( And ah – what a noble figure she would grow into. )

* * *

She is four-turning-five and far too intelligent for her age. Her father keeps mum about her progress, shielding her from intrusive eyes with polite smiles and honeyed words and she wonders why the world around her seems so familiar with the men and women and children running around on rooftops and effortlessly leaping into the air.

( Once, she asked her father – once – and he smiled at her with indulgence, his eyes strained as he patted her head and sent her off to play with the other children who had the same raven-hair and onyx eyes as hers. Something had dawned on her then - a startling, nearly crippling realisation that sent her stumbling onto the ground.

Her father had fussed over her, dusting her off, and she's left dizzy and confused when her father asked if she was alright, the revelation already receding from her mind as a half-forgotten memory.)

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Mikoto is four-turning-five and she meets the future clan head for the first time.

( Uchiha Fugaku is nine-turning-ten and he is stiff and awkward and far too proper for a child. )

She stares at him, looks at him – seeing further into his soul than he would've liked – and smiled. His cheeks flushed at the sight, unused to having a girl that isn't his mother or aunts or first cousins smiling kindly at him, and startled when she took his hand in hers and dragged him off to play with her and the other children.

( He is wary and unsure at first, but she is sunshine and gentle winds and he is running around with the other children in a matter of minutes – not quite laughing and grinning but joyful and content in his reserved ways.

His parents reprimand him when they see the dust on his clothes and the dirt on his hands but they are content, at least, to see their always-too-proper son acting like the child he is.

' _For now,'_ they whisper, _'For now, let him be the child he is.'_ )

When she is seven-turning-eight and he is twelve-turning-thirteen and they have known each other for years and one was never seen without the other, there are whispers of their engagement amongst the clan elders.

( Mikoto says nothing when she hears this, her expression carefully blank as she stares at nothing in particular. Fugaku shifts, concerned, and she simply grins at her to-be-betrothed with light eyes as they make their way to the Academy and fire-red hair catches her gaze. )


	2. her favourite season

**AY YO THIS STORY AIN'T DEAD YET I PROMISE**

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Autumn is a season of regrets, of hopeless faith, of careless affection and thoughtless love. It is the season of fragile dreams, of shy beginnings and fading goodbyes. It is the season of never-ending journeys; of dying laughter and deep-seated sorrow. Autumn, at its very core, is heartfelt loneliness and silent, agonizing nostalgia; it is the very embodiment of forgotten memories and endless melancholy.

(And yet, why does she feel the most at peace during autumn?)

.

.

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* * *

( **The garden is empty**.

 _Wilted roses and dying dandelions; the scent of lavender nothing more than a distant memory; cloudy skies and distant thunder; ashes upon ashes upon ashes._ )

A gentle breeze passes through, nostalgic and melancholic. Leaves rustle, and the air is sharp. Crisp. Clear. She breathes in. Out. Her breaths come in little puffs, and she is oddly fascinated by it - delighted even.

"Mikoto."

( Mikoto? What a wonderful name. Is that who she is? She's not entirely sure.)

" _Mikoto_."

The little girl blinks, cloudy eyes clearing immediately as she turns around to face the man. Her eyes light up with childish glee and she throws herself at him, small arms wrapping themselves around his legs. Caught by surprise, her father stumbles but manages to catch himself before he ends up falling.

Sighing, he smiles tiredly at the young girl clinging on to his leg.

"The leaves are pretty, don't you think?"

He hums in quiet agreement.

( It's peaceful here, he thinks. Like a land untouched by time.)

"It's sad, I think. But maybe that's what makes it so pretty? Like the world is saying goodbye," she continues and that - that gives him pause.

(He forgets, sometimes, how odd his little girl is, but then she says things like that, and he remembers.)

"It's time we head back, don't you think?" he asks instead, and she pouts childishly at him.

"Already?"

"We promised your grandmother we wouldn't take long, Mikoto. You wouldn't want her to get upset would you?" he reprimanded gently, making her wince in guilt and shuffle her feet. Eventually, she sighed and took his hand in hers, glancing backwards and at the polished marble monument behind her.

"I have to go now, kaa-san . Next time I come back, I'll have lots more stories to tell!"

It takes him a moment, but he bids farewell to his late wife, eyes tracing her name on the memorial before him.

"Let's go."

They leave the memorial behind, and though he still feels an overwhelming sort of sadness over his late wife, he can't help but note how small and soft his daughter's hand is.

(Mikoto's eyes are bright in a way he never thought onyx could be, and that - that is what gives him the drive to keep going forward. His daughter is bright and gentle, like sunshine and soft winds.

 _Noble_ , he thinks. What a fitting name Minori had given her.)

 _ **(** And for all that he plays the fool, Uchiha Tadashi is clan-born and clan-raised; well-aware of the strange sort of understanding his daughter possesses and what it would mean for her._

 _So he never says a word, knowing that his wife would have done the same. **)**_

He looks forward to seeing what she grows up to be.

(And ah, how great she will become.)

* * *

Mikoto dreams, sometimes.

(She dreams of wildfires and the scent of smoke, of the scent of burning ozone filling the air. She dreams of ink-stained fingers and dirt-stained clothes - of deafening thunder and the feel of rain pelting harshly against her skin.

Mikoto dreams, sometimes.)

But then she wakes up and she forgets. She is four, and her only concern is what they'll be having for breakfast that morning.

(Autumn will always be her favourite season.)

* * *

 **A/N: I have nothing planned for this story, ngl. I'm just rolling with the punches here, BUT I love the concept of an SI!Mikoto so much so like, I'm sticking to this no matter how long it takes me to finish this damned (prolly-10-chapter) thing. I'm open to ideas tho - actually, they'd be very appreciated so like, spam me with them for the next chapter.**

 **Also yes, we're starting with brief glimpses into her childhood before Academy years. Because writing backstories are fun, no matter how much I suck at them ahahahahahha.**


	3. bittersweet friends

**Plot? What's that? ALSO. A/N at the bottom, as always.**

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Akane is seven when she meets Mikoto for the very first time.

( _She thinks back to that moment fondly, reminisces a time back when the world wasn't so cold and the war had never taken the lives of children. Wonders, briefly, how her best friend had experienced that particular shared moment in their lives.)_

Leaves rustled softly, and violet eyes peered through lashes to gaze at the girl standing beside her. With a soft apology, Akane took a step backwards to allow the other girl time to pay her own respects. She watched, curious, as the she knelt before the memorial, incense lit and eyes closed.

(She thinks she's seen her somewhere in the village before. It's hard to forget, considering how pretty the other girl is. She looked soft and delicate - a bit like civilian nobility. Like a lady - or girl, in this case - of the court.)

Then she catches a glimpse of the uchiwa on the girl's sleeve and she can't help the wry smile on her face.

 _No wonder_.

Her eyes stray towards the memorial once more and she feels her mood sobering, lingering on a single name a moment too long.

 _(Dark eyes watched silently, taking in the careful blankness on her face, and feels her heart ache.)_

The Uchiha stood up, carefully dusting herself off as she turned towards the blonde. Then, with a polite incline of her head, spoke, "The world does not wait for us, no matter how much we wish it were so."

And suddenly, in the startled silence, it was just Akane again.

It was just her, and the overwhelming need to laugh. So she laughed. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

 _And if the laughter turned to tears, who was anyone to judge?_

(In front of the memorial stone, a little girl wept for her older brother, wishing that he was still there to teach her and play with her and protect her.

But he wasn't, no matter how much she wished that wasn't the case.)

* * *

Weeks later, Akane finds the Uchiha girl in front of the memorial stone once more. They stand together, side-by-side, eyes lingering on different names, heart filled with different emotions, head with different memories. But they are similar still.

(Little girls who understand a little too much, who sometimes wished they understood a little less.)

"I'm Yamanaka Akane." the blonde stated, not expecting much of an answer from the other. Dark eyes flit towards her. They are sharp, and searching, and Akane is reminded of herself on those days the world teaches something new about itself.

"Your eyes are violet."

(The words are spoken softly, as though they weren't meant to be spoken at all.)

She answers nonetheless.

"I got them from my maternal grandmother."

"Was she not Yamanaka?"

She shook her head, and heard the Uchiha hum consideringly.

A long silence stretches out between them and Akane has resigned herself to that being the end of their short-lived conversation when she suddenly speaks up once more.

"Uchiha Mikoto."

Her eyebrows shoot upwards and she turns to look at the girl smiling slightly at her. Slowly, hesitantly, she returns the gesture.

"It's nice to meet you, Uchiha-san."

* * *

 _When she was six, Mikoto met a little girl with white-blonde hair and grief-stricken violet eyes._

The air was cold and her father was far too busy to come to the memorial stone with her.

So she went alone, and there she was.

( _Sad and alone and looking so-very-much like a fairytale princess; perfect and beautiful even in her grief._ )

(The world worked in strange ways, didn't it? Uniting two little girls with souls too old for their bodies, two little girls with deep-seated sadness rooted into their very being, who needed the other more than they ever knew. )

And then they met again, weeks later, and Mikoto made her very first real friend.

( _And something in their hearts sing as they stand side-by-side, Akane-and-Mikoto; Mikoto-and-Akane. Always them against the world. Until the end of eternity._ )

 **(** _ **Something in the veil of the world flickers, and another firefly dances with the first.)**_

* * *

 _Lights, flickering - and everything is brighter._

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 **A/N: AND IM BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER. Fucking finally lmao. This has been sitting in my drafts for months. MONTHS. and im so so sorry for not having posted it earlier but ive been busy i swear. Still! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Reviews are very much appreciated, and thanks to everyone who has! You are the lights of my miserable life.**

 **Thanks bye.**


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